


Silk on Skin

by dreadwolftakeme



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Nipple Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has a gift for Dorian - a pair of silk stockings. He's not sure how Dorian will take them but Dorian is eager to prove he looks good in anything. Shameless smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk on Skin

 “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

Cullen glanced awkwardly down at the silk stockings in his hands. He could feel his face flaming, a scarlet blush surely flooding his cheeks. He’d meant it to be a bit of fun – something different for them. He got the impression that Dorian was an adventurous man and he was worried that what they’d been doing… well, he didn’t want things to get stale. Apparently, though, he’d made a grave error in judgement.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It was a stupid idea, I never should have mentioned it.”

Disheartened, he turned away, meaning to stash the offending items in his desk drawer and hopefully forget about them. Dorian, however, grasped his shoulder, bringing Cullen back around to face him.

“Now, now, I didn’t say that,” he chastised and Cullen was surprised – and little relieved – to see he was smiling. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all,” the mage went on. “I honestly didn’t expect you to like that sort of thing. But, as it happens. I’m quite amenable to the idea.”

Cullen blinked in astonishment. “You… you _are_?” he exclaimed. “Really?”

Dorian laughed and, Maker, that sound never failed to do things to him.

“Oh yes, very much so,” the Vint purred. “Haven’t I told you I look fabulous in anything?”

Cullen’s mouth lilted in a smirk and he was about to reply when a sharp rap on the door interrupted them. The blonde rolled his eyes and he barked out an exasperated “Enter!” to the poor sod on the other side. The door swung open, admitting one of Leliana’s runners.

“Apologies, Commander,” the lad said, saluting. “But you’re required in the War Room. The Inquisitor needs you right away.”

“Doesn’t she always when things are getting interesting?” muttered Cullen under his breath. He glanced over at Dorian, who merely gave him a smile and a little shrug. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’m coming. Can we, um, finish this later?” he asked quietly of Dorian. The other man chuckled and, ever so slyly, his prised the paper-wrapped packet from Cullen’s fingers and slipped them inside his robes.

“I’ll come back later,” he winked. “I might even bring these with me. Enjoy your meeting, Commander!”

And, with an airy laugh and devilish gleam in his grey eyes, he was gone, leaving Cullen alone with the messenger. He glanced at the young man, who mercifully had the good sense to be looking straight ahead, and huffed out a sigh.

“Alright, let’s go then,” he declared, as he snatched up his mantle, throwing it over his shoulders. Hopefully, whatever it was wouldn’t take too long.

 

*

 

Unfortunately, Cullen’s hopes of a quick council were dashed as talk turned to the ball at Halamshiral. He couldn’t give two hoots about who would be at the Winter Palace or which precise shade of red was best for their uniforms. There’d even been talk of dance lessons, which he prayed to the Maker was just a joke because he did not have time to be twirling around a dancefloor.

It was past dusk by the time he could finally get away. Dinner time had been and gone, the main hall in Skyhold almost empty save for the last few lingering stragglers. Thankfully, Cullen wasn’t hungry but he did resent being robbed of the chance for a little fun with Dorian to talk about Orlesian etiquette. The mage was probably in the tavern now, enjoying his down time, and Cullen hardly blamed him. He only hoped the man wasn’t too annoyed.

Deciding the best thing he could do was to finish off his paperwork before bed, Cullen simply headed straight for his office. He knew he had a couple of requisitions forms for the Quartermaster that he needed to complete. If he was lucky, there’d still be some of that brandy left too that Josie had brought over. Maker, he could use a drink.

That there was light in his office when he unlocked it took him by surprise. Usually, the candles would have burnt out by now and he’d have to fumble around in the dark to light fresh ones. However, when he opened the door, he was greeted by the soft, golden glow of dozens of candles. And there, basking in it, perched on the edge of his desk, was Dorian.

Cullen thought his jaw must have hit the ground. The mage was dressed in nothing but the silk stockings he’d taken from Cullen earlier, teemed with a sinfully tiny pair of lacy undergarments. No doubt they were made for women but it really didn’t matter – the ivory lace looked stunning against Dorian’s caramel complexion. He was wearing a slinky satin robe over the top, left open so Cullen could see every inch of his sculpted chest and stomach. The shimmering fabric matched the delicate golden rings Dorian wore in his nipples – connected tonight by a gold chain as fine as gossamer.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen gasped, and he slipped hastily into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. “You are exquisite.”

A smirk tugged at Dorian’s lips. He swiped up a glass of wine from beside him on the desk and took a sip.

“I told you I look good in anything,” he purred. “Am I to take it that you approve?”

“Approve?!” spluttered Cullen. Maker, if he approved any more, he was going to combust. Already he felt uncomfortably hot in his clothing, could feel the prickle of a flush creeping up his face. Just the sight of Dorian in such sinful attire had his libido stirring and his hands twitched at his sides. Oh, how he ached to touch… And what exactly was stopping him? Grinning, the former Templar was across the room in a heartbeat. He plucked the glass out of Dorian’s slender fingers and placed it out of the way. Then, cupping the mage’s cheeks, he pulled him in for a kiss. That Dorian tasted of wine came of no surprise but there was the lingering flavour of chocolate that made Cullen groan hungrily. Dorian hummed, fastening his arms around Cullen’s neck and pulling the man flush against him.

“Is that a yes?” Dorian gasped, when the blonde pulled away to nuzzle at his throat. He smelled of sandalwood and cloves and something inexplicably sweet. Cullen couldn’t resist the urge to taste him.

“A resounding yes,” he murmured, closing his lips on the flutter of Dorian’s pulse. The man’s skin was luxuriously soft. Cullen worried it gently between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and biting hard enough to bruise. Dorian made an angry noise of protest but he was silenced quickly into compliance when Cullen reached down and tugged on a piercing.

“A-amatus!” came the mage’s tremulous cry. “Ah, yes!”

The commander smirked against Dorian’s neck, pressing a line of kisses down the elegant column of his throat and over his collarbone. He felt Dorian tense as he reached his chest, heard the rush of breath that left his lungs in a stuttering gasp. Cullen’s lips closed around the nipple and he teased it with the pointed tip of his tongue. Dorian jerked and moaned. His body arched beneath Cullen and he gripped his golden curls tight.

“I love how sensitive you are here,” Cullen smirked. He caught the little gold ring between his teeth and gave it a gentle tug. As though proving his point, Dorian cried out again, his nails digging into Cullen’s scalp. The blonde laughed softly. “You know,” he mused, following the delicate chain to the other side with his lips. “I’ve often wondered if you could come from this alone. I’d rather like to find out…”

He smiled and this time he was a little rougher, sucking Dorian’s nipple into his mouth, jewellery and all. The sounds he elicited were positively sinful.

“Yes,” whined Dorian. “Oh Cullen. Cullen, please!”

“Not tonight,” Cullen chuckled. “Right now, all I can think about are these…”

His eyes trailed down to where Dorian’s hardening cock was straining against the lace of his smalls. Maker, just the sight alone made Cullen feel almost dizzy with desire. He left his thumbs toying with Dorian’s piercings and kissed a hungry line down the mage’s toned stomach, nipping and sucking the heavenly bronze flesh. Dorian squirmed and gasped the closer he got to his goal. His hips flexed, causing the lace to pull deliciously taught over his manhood. Seeing that gorgeous, flushed arousal veiled in intricate, ivory lace was just too delicious. Cullen growled and he buried his face between Dorian’s thighs, nuzzling Dorian’s erection through the fabric.

“AH! _Amatus!_ ”

The needy, breathless tone of Dorian’s whines heated Cullen’s blood. The masculine scent of his sex was more intoxicating than any drug and it was the blonde’s turn to groan hungrily. His tongue protruded from his lips and he began to lap at his lover’s shaft through the delicate lace.

“Kaffas, Cullen!” Dorian cursed, shakily. “That’s… _oh_! So good!”

The commander’s lips quirked in a wolfish grin. He painted a line up Dorian’s cock with the tip of his tongue, fingers still teasing the other man’s bejewelled nipples. Then, without bothering to peel back the lace, he sucked the rosy head of Dorian’s erection right into his mouth. A hoarse, shuddering gasp came from the Vint. Cullen took as much of Dorian as the garment would allow, suckling voraciously, swirling his tongue over and over the sensitive tip. One pale hand trailed down from Dorian’s chest, gliding over his torso to dip between his legs. He cupped Dorian’s sac and squeezed gently, smirking when the mage whimpered.

“For a Chantry boy, you are the epitome of wickedness, do you know that?” panted Dorian. His head dropped back and he supported himself with trembling arms on Cullen’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle. Cullen didn’t much mind.

“I think you have the wrong impression about Templars,” he responded hoarsely, releasing Dorian from his mouth. The hand that wasn’t teasing the mage’s balls joined the other and Cullen used his teeth to carefully pull back the lace. He groaned at the sight of Dorian’s thick, flushed cock finally freed, blood pooling in his own loins. The elegant ivory trappings, however, remained mostly in place. Cullen couldn’t get enough of the way they framed the other man’s length, like silken cream against the caffe-au-lait of Dorian’s skin.

“Maker’s breath, you’re so beautiful,” he sighed, as one hand wrapped around the base of his lover’s cock. The other slipped behind Dorian’s sac, teasing over his perineum until he found his mark. Cullen smirked to find it already slick with oil. “You prepared yourself again?” he chuckled, and, damn, if the thought of Dorian fingering his own ass wasn’t the hottest thing in Thedas.

“I thought it wise,” the mage groaned. “For expediency’s sake, of course.”

“I quite agree,” Cullen murmured and he pressed the tip of his finger against Dorian’s tight opening. “Hmm, not enough room,” he muttered, as Dorian whined with need. “Part your legs wider for me, love.”

He gave Dorian’s length an encouraging squeeze. His lover huffed but he did as he was asked, planting his hands on the desk, leaning back on his arms and draping his parted legs over Cullen’s broad shoulders. The blonde groaned at the sight of Dorian’s silk-clad thighs, at the unimpeded view of his own pale hand disappearing into those ivory smalls. He wanted nothing more than to tear them off and fuck the Tevinter senseless and, whilst he doubted Dorian would object to that, he had other things in mind – first, at least. Such an exquisite gift deserved to be appreciated properly, after all.

Ignoring his own throbbing arousal for the time being, Cullen leaned over Dorian’s cock, taking the length of him into his mouth again. Dorian cursed and bucked. His manicured nails scrabbled at the wood of Cullen’s desk, knees squeezing the blonde’s shoulders.

“ _Venhedis!_ ” he hissed. “Cullen, please!”

The desperate little noise he made when Cullen laughed in response was just too beautiful. The blonde took pity on his mage and he began to gently ease his finger into Dorian as he sucked him off. Dorian whimpered and panted. His hips rocked on the polished mahogany, trying to take Cullen deeper, faster. However the Commander pressed in slowly, groaning around Dorian’s cock at the tight heat that gripped him. He _ached_ for it but he was happy to ache a little longer to see Dorian come apart.

When the mage keened, Cullen knew he’d hit perfection. He began a slow rhythm, bobbing his head up and down Dorian’s dick in time to the movements of his finger. Dorian panted and gasped, rolling his hips, mewling every time his sweet spot was struck.

“Faster!” he begged. “You’re killing me, amatus!”

Smirking, Cullen toyed with the idea of being cruel. Dorian cursed so prettily when he was denied. Yet his own cock was eager for attention and Dorian had been nice enough to dress up for him. So he obliged the mage, sucking him to the back of his throat and letting the muscles there flutter around him. The finger fucking Dorian’s gorgeous ass picked up its pace, wringing moan after shattered moan from the Vint’s throat. Soon enough, Dorian’s thighs began to tremble. His cock grew impossibly hard in Cullen’s mouth and the blonde knew he was nearing his peak. He hummed again. Dorian all but sobbed with pleasure. His erection throbbed and Cullen pulled off just in time to watch his lover finish all over his own stomach. He watched, enraptured, his own length damn near painful with sheer want.

“Oh, you look so good splattered with your own seed,” the blonde declared, breathlessly.

Blissed out, Dorian gazed down his body at Cullen, a messy smile forming under his slightly dishevelled moustache. Cullen marvelled at the sight: Dorian, his hair in disarray, his skin dewy with sweat. Dorian with his stocking-clad legs and his cock peeking out from his lacy smalls, cum dripping over his sculpted middle. Had he ever seen anything more erotic? Cullen didn’t think so.

Gently, he removed himself from the mage’s twitching entrance, chuckling at his whimper. Then, without so much as a word, he leaned in and proceeded to lick his lover clean,

“ _Vishante kaffas_ , Cullen!” Dorian gasped. “A-ah! Maker, you absolute wretch!”

He squirmed, writhed, and Cullen simply chuckled as he lapped up every last drop of Dorian’s essence. He glanced up when he’d finished, licking his lips, and Dorian shoved at him half-heartedly with a silken foot.

“Filthy Ferelden beast,” he growled, but his eyes were bright and his lips curved in amusement. Cullen said nothing as he tucked the Tevinter’s softening manhood back into his pretty underwear and gave it an affectionate pat.

“You were dirty,” he shrugged. “I know how you hate to be dirty.”

Dorian sighed and shook his magnificent head. He shifted his weight on the desk, groaning, though whether from discomfort or residual sensation, Cullen wasn’t sure. The blonde straightened up. A hiss escaped him at the way his breeches rubbed his now very prominent erection. Dorian raised a brow.

“Do you require some assistance, Commander?” he chuckled. “Maker, I daresay you’ve earned it after that.”

“Soon,” Cullen smirked. “Let’s get to bed first. Think you can manage the ladder?”

“Probably,” the mage shrugged. “You’ll have to go behind me, just in case,” he added, with a theatrical wink.

Cullen grinned wickedly. “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
